Hold On
by seriousscientist
Summary: So Emma doing laundry? That probably should have been her first clue that something was amiss.


Emma hasn't held the baby yet. It takes Snow a while to realize this, but roughly a month into Neal's first year of life, Snow can't come up with a single picture or memory of Emma holding her brother. Given, she's not sure she or David have really put him down long enough for anyone else to have a turn. Those first two weeks at least they're both still too afraid, too convinced that if they shut their eyes too long, or turn away for too long a moment, he'll disappear again.

And so, it's not until about four weeks into this new normal, when things have finally begun to settle and they're down to what the books assure her is a more normal level of anxiety, that she finds herself willing to hand the baby off to almost anyone in the vicinity to get a few moments of peace or shuteye. It's then that she realizes Emma never reaches out, never stands still long enough to end up with a baby in her arms. It's not that she's avoiding him per se. She visits daily, bringing food from Granny's or presents from the townspeople or some baby gadget that she found online that didn't exist back in the Enchanted Forest. But she also does chores, loads of baby laundry in their newly acquired washing machine, mops the kitchen floor and washes piles of dishes. Snow knows that she's missed out on a lot of daughter's life, but if there's one thing she knows with certainty, it's that Emma is not a neat person by nature. Back before, before the baby, before the curse broke, when they were nothing more than roommates, Snow would often come home to find the sink overflowing with dishes (made more amazing due to the fact that she also knows Emma doesn't cook) and she'd regularly find shoes under the coffee table and bathroom towels would pile up until she was reduced to using beach towels. So Emma doing laundry? That probably should have been her first clue that something was amiss.

She tells David her observations and he scoffs at the idea, though he too can't recall an actual instance of Emma holding Neal. But, both are too afraid to upset the newly found family peace in any way though and shy away from addressing the issue head on by just asking her.

So, Snow starts to hide the laundry, invests in paper plates and waits to see her daughter's reaction, hoping she's mistaken. But, there's a moment of panic on Emma's face the first time she drops by and finds the kitchen sink completely empty and the counter spotless. Then Snow watches as she reaches for the kettle, immediately busying herself with mugs and spoons and hot chocolate. Except that it is June and a balmy 80 degrees and no one in their right mind is craving a hot beverage.

Snow shoots a questioning look at her husband, but he just rolls his eyes, still unconvinced. It doesn't help her case that Emma seems okay interacting with the baby generally, talking to him, playing with his little baby hands and fingers, as long as he's safely ensconced in someone else's grasp or his car seat.

The next evening, when Emma shows up with both Henry and Hook in tow is the final straw. Snow has decided to turn the tables and as soon as they arrive she busies herself in the kitchen under the guise of playing hostess, first bringing beverages and snacks and then announcing she's going to bake cookies. She sends Henry off to the corner store to purchase the missing chocolate chips and suggests that he stop by the fields to retrieve David on his way back. Before Emma has time to protest, the offer to drive Henry to the store still forming on her lips, Snow has deposited the baby into her lap right where she sits on the couch and hurried out of the living room. She busies herself with retrieving ingredients from the refrigerator, holding her breath the whole time, but she nearly drops the eggs when she hears the front door slam, much too quickly for Henry's return. Slow steady footsteps to the kitchen follow.

She turns to find Hook entering with a slightly stunned and whip-lashed look upon his face. And her son in his arms.

"What happened?!" she demands moving around the kitchen island to retrieve the baby who has miraculously remained asleep through the the game of baby hot potato.

"Uh," he stutters, glancing back towards the door and she realizes that he has no idea what just happen either. "He's fine, the little prince is unharmed I promise." he moves to hold the baby out to her and she sighs deciding that a quiet baby is a happy baby and makes no move to take him and risk waking him up.

"Did she say anything?"

Hook looks a bit shocked when she moves back towards the stove instead of yanking the baby away from him, and she puts "reassure pirate that they trust him now" on her list of things to worry about later.

"She said the station alerted her phone." But he won't meet her eyes, focusing on the baby instead, and she knows he's not buying the lie either.

"She hasn't held him, not once since he's been born." She finally admits. "I thought if maybe..." she trails off. She's not really sure what the goal here was other than to prove that her hypothesis was right. She's really done nothing to fix whatever the problem actually may be and possibly made it worse.

"Aye." He agrees but makes no move to offer any more. If her daughter has confided in him, he won't betray her confidence, even to her mother. But his quiet acceptance of her confession indicates that while her daughter hasn't told him, he's reached the same conclusion as Snow herself on his own. "I imagine you might find her down by the lake," he does finally offer with a shrug. "She tends to go there when she... doesn't want to be elsewhere."

Snow switches the oven behind her off with a resolute turn of the nob and grabs her keys from the bow over the sink.

"Do you mind?" she nods towards her son, now snoring away in the pirates arms.

She sees the flash of complete fear in his eyes at being left alone with this responsibility, and on further thought, she's not sure she's ever seen him hold Neal either. But he also hasn't actually made any move to put the baby down, and in fact is rocking him slightly to keep him asleep, so she decides they'll both be fine. She also decides to worry about whether leaving her once-kidnapped four week old with a one-handed pirate who may or may not be sleeping with daughter and may or may not have any idea what to do with a baby is good parenting at a later date. She _is_ positive that tricking her grown daughter into holding an infant she clearly didn't to hold was definitely bad parenting and fixing that mistake comes first.

"He should sleep for a bit yet and David or Henry will be back shortly." She gives him just long enough to slightly nod before rushing out the door after her eldest.

She finds here right where Hook said she would be. Curled up, knees clasped to her chest on the lone bench by the duck pond. And clearly crying.

Snow gently takes a seat next to her, sure to leave enough distance between them out of fear of being turned away. It's been a long while since she was allowed to comfort her daughter she realizes, between the new curse and the baby they've haven't had much time just the two of them. They sit in silence for a bit, both staring out at the lake, with Emma occasionally sniffing into cuff of her sweatshirt.

"Are you pregnant?" she finally asks, too confused by her daughter's actions to come up with any other rationale.

Unfortunately Emma is mid sniffle at the time and almost coughs up a lung in response. "No!"

"Sorry," Snow says sheepishly, "I just didn't know where else to start. Pregnant or some kind of sibling jealousy were my only options. And I couldn't find any books at the library about preventing sibling rivalry when your children are thirty years apart." It earns her a slight grunt of a laugh at least.

Emma takes a deep breath and refused to meet Snow's questioning glance. When she finally speaks her voice is barely a whisper and Snow has to physically lean closer to even hear her confession.

"I never held Henry."

"You never held Henry," Snow repeats back, trying to understand but needing more details. And then it just spills out of her daughter, rapid fire, something she's clearly been thinking about and holding back for quite some time.

"I never held him when he was a baby. They, the nurse, kept insisting that I hold him. I couldn't do it. I couldn't even look at him. I never touched him, never counted his fingers and toes, I never saw one hair on his head and then he was gone." She's sobbing now, hand to her mouth as if trying to force back the words, trying to stop reliving that terrible moment. Snow moves closer, afraid to scare her away but slowly puts her arms around her shoulders. She even more surprise when Emma not only lets her, but curls into her, sobbing into neck.

"Shh..you did the right thing. Henry doesn't blame you and you know that."

"But that was before, now he sees baby Neal, and he knows that I didn't...How can he not wonder if it could have been different? I always thought I was really giving him his best chance, but every day since Regina gave us those fake memories I wonder what could have been..." she trails off, knowing she's not really explaining well, but too heartbroken to do better.

But Snow understands enough, by not holding her baby brother she's been trying to both avoid causing her own son pain and burying her own.

"Honey, not holding Neal, won't change what happened with Henry. I wish I could fix that for you, and I'm sorry I tried to force you." Snow's crying openly herself now. "But Henry's okay now. You can create new memories and he knows that." Snow hesitates, unsure of her next question, "You know that too, right? Us having this new baby, it, it makes you wonder what it would have been like if we had been able to hold on to you as baby too doesn't it?" She senses Emma tense and pull away, about to interject, but Snow speeds up to get out her own guilty thoughts which she had buried as well. Like mother, like daughter. "It sucks, I know, I wonder all the time, especially now that we get to do those things with Neal. But then I remember that if anything had been different, you wouldn't be you, and Henry wouldn't be Henry. And we wouldn't have the opportunity we have now to be a family and make new memories and just... hold each other."

Emma sniffs loudly before reaching out to hug her mother back. "Thank you," she whispers quietly, still too fragile, feeling raw and exposed to say much more. Snow knows she's hasn't really fixed everything, the healing process is a long and slow one, but her daughter looks lighter for finally getting her fears out in the open.

"I love you. _Henry_ loves you. And that's all that really matters, right?" Snow pats her back gently before pulling back to brush the tears from her cheeks with her own sleeve.

Emma nods, her own tears finally slowing. "I know I can't change the past. Well, actually, I can, I have actually." Snow laughs as Emma squints up into sky trying to untangle that mess that magic has brought into their lives. "I know I have to stop living in it though. I promised that I would, it's just a lot harder in practice than I expected."

"Just, try not to bottle it up next time. That's what family is here for." Emma nods in agreement and she allows herself another moment to fully gather herself. Snow is grateful that her daughter finally confided in her, but also knows not to push just yet and that it is time to lighten the mood. "Speaking of bottles, the baby is probably hungry, we should head back. I promise not to force him on you again." Snow stands up, smoothing down her coat nervously before extending her hand to Emma. Emma grabs it willingly though, swinging up off the bench and threading their arms together as they begin to walk.

"Oh god, you didn't leave Henry babysitting did you? If he has his Gameboy on, he wouldn't notice if the world ends much less if the baby is crying." Emma questions.

"Worse than that. Your pirate is babysitting. Though from the look on his face when I left, its possible that we may return to him crying and not the baby." And with that image, they both dissolve into giggles, leaning heavily into each, holding each other, as they make the journey home.


End file.
